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As we talk, I can’t help but think about Hayden. Even as I sit looking at David, I think about Hayden. The guilt is still there, but I also feel a presence of calm. My brain knows that he would want me to be happy. My heart just can’t let go.
“—she had accidentally booked the newlywed suite for us.” David laughs.
“No,” I say animatedly with a laugh.
“Yes. My mother was mortified. There were…amenities for newlyweds and… just not items appropriate for children.”
“That’s hysterical.” I let myself feel the lightness, not overthinking it but just trying to be in this moment. “So what did you do?”
“Well, I think she almost pulled our arms out of their sockets trying to get us out of there as fast as possible,” he says and I laugh again, a real laugh with my head thrown back. I look at him again and I see him looking at me with something akin to joyful wonder in his eyes.
My smile falters and I can’t help but pull away a bit. I sense that he realizes it because he clears his throat and continues telling me what happened.
“The resort was incredibly apologetic. They gave us a suite with connecting rooms and free water park passes so it was worth it in the end,” he finishes with a smile. He lifts his cup up to his mouth and takes a sip.
“That is seriously so funny,” I say, taking a sip of my own. “You know I wouldn’t have pegged you as a caramel latte with extra caramel drizzle kind of guy,” I tease.
“Are you judging me, Ana?” he asks playfully, acting offended.
“Not gonna lie, a little bit,” I say with my eyebrow raised, pretending to look down on him.
“I like to break the stereotypes about toxic masculinity.”
“Well cheers to that.” I raise my cup to his and he gently taps his own to it. We both laugh and fall silent.
“I’m sorry if this is too forward, and out of line. You can tell me to go to hell if you want,” he says, and I know what's coming before it leaves his mouth. “But would you like to go out to dinner or something with me sometime?” His words are covered in soft hesitation and nervousness, even though he tries to keep his voice steady.
My heart lurches. A date. With another man.
Be happy, I hear in my head.
I swallow hard, and look down. “I—” but I stop for a moment and take a deep breath. He starts to apologize again but I interrupt him and say, “Yes.”
He nods. I can see him actively trying to control his facial expressions, tamper down his surprise and hide a wide grin.
“I would really like that, David,” I whisper truthfully, and tell the guilt rising in my heart that it’s going to be okay.
Be happy.
We finish our drinks and make our way out of the shop. Our cars are parked along the road, and he has to walk a bit to get to his. He tells me goodbye and smiles as I get into my car, waving as he walks down the sidewalk. I turn my car on, and wait for the heat to warm my cold hands. Even just being outside for a few seconds, the frigid air is relentless.
I happen to look back in my rearview mirror and notice David about five cars down from me, but still on the sidewalk talking to a homeless woman sitting against a brick wall. I turn my body to look out the back window, and see him give this woman the other muffin he had bought in the coffee shop. He then pulls some bills out of his pocket and gives it to her. They seem to exchange a few words before he turns and walks the rest of the distance to his car. He doesn’t look back towards her or even me, and I eventually lose sight of him as he makes it to his own car.
I turn back around and sit in silence. The heat finally starts to push the cold away, filling up the car with warmth and comfort. In a very small and almost fragile way, I feel the same happening in my heart. I close my eyes, as tightly as I can, and I try to breathe.
THIRTY-ONE
NOW, WINTER
I’ve canceled on David in my head about twelve times already. I picked up my phone to call him but put it down just as quickly. I called Maddie twice, and she talked me off a ledge about a dozen times, assuring me that this is a good idea. That this is okay. That I’m not doing anything wrong. That Hayden would want me to be happy.
I put a lot of effort into not only getting myself ready, but in getting up at all. I’m wearing high waisted black jeans and a light gray dressy sweater. It is loose and billowy, slightly cropped but long enough to not show any skin. My closed-toe black heels click on my hardwood floor, probably scuffing it up now that I'm thinking about it.
The knock at the door has me halt in my pacing. It makes me freeze and stop breathing.
I can’t do this.
Yes you can, the voice says.
